


Fathers of our Destruction

by Medie



Category: Eureka, Terminator - All Media Types, Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-15
Updated: 2010-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-11 02:58:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/107593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Would General John Connor send a machine back to destroy a town? Or just one person in it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fathers of our Destruction

**Author's Note:**

> Um, I fail at keeping things under 500 words. I must say Michael is my creation (and named for a certain actor from the first movie) and I hope this isn't a complete disaster. This is set post S2. My thanks to [](http://azarsuerte.livejournal.com/profile)[**azarsuerte**](http://azarsuerte.livejournal.com/) and [](http://scifijunkie.livejournal.com/profile)[**scifijunkie**](http://scifijunkie.livejournal.com/) for serving as betas. Any remaining mistakes are my own. Title comes from Sarah's monologue in the Turk.

_  
When I was in the mental hospital I became obsessed with science. Not all science actually, and not really science at all. Scientists. And then only nuclear scientists. The ones who invented the bomb. Oppenheimer, Heisenberg, Fermi, and Teller. Pioneers. Geniuses, all. I read every book I could. I wanted to understand. Why couldn't they stop? These fathers of our destruction. And why wouldn't anyone stop them? And if I had the chance, would I?_ \- Sarah Connor

 

Sometimes, Henry forgets. For a moment, maybe two, he forgets what he knows, but this is Eureka. He can't forget forever. Not in the town where technology is God and the village idiot can make a house talk.

Henry wonders if Einstein had any idea, suspects that Oppenheimer might have, just what the town is capable of. He thinks of it, tries to picture three billion dead and billions more dying, and his skin crawls. How much blood is on their hands, just waiting to make itself known?

The idea of leaving town is almost a relief. It's an escape. A chance to get away from it. To run and forget the town he loves is giving birth to the apocalypse. He came to Eureka to save lives, to improve them, but now he stands outside the door of Carter's house and wants to scream when S.A.R.A.H. says hello. Her voice, Fargo's voice, is as pleasant as ever.

"The road to hell," mutters Henry, fleeing. He feels ridiculous, rushing up the steps and running from a _house_, but he doesn't turn back. S.A.R.A.H. might be harmless, but B.R.A.D. wasn't and B.R.A.D. almost killed them.

Sometimes he wonders if, maybe, just maybe, it'll be a relative that finishes the job. There are no design specs for Skynet. Not yet anyway (he hopes.) But Henry has a feeling that if they did, they'd look a lot like S.A.R.A.H's.

And isn't that a thought. At his car, he looks back at the bunker, the warm metal of the car door beneath his hand.

Judgment Day is waiting and he wonders if any of them will live through it.

-

He stops by GD one last time. He thinks they owe him a decent good-bye and, maybe, he owes them one.

Allison looks at him, helpless. It's not a look she wears well. She brushes fingers along the pinstripes of her shirt, slender fingers plucking the tail. He doesn't feel sorry for her, she wouldn't want him to, so he waits and gives her the chance to think. "Henry, I – " she drops her gaze, breathing in and then out. The silence stretches out between them and Henry wants to tell her it's all right. Out there he can _do _something.

He thinks of the flash drive in his pocket, everything he could find on Sarah Connor and then some. She's out there and so is her son. He's going to find them. He's not sure what he can do, but he's going to try. "Allison," he says, his voice quiet. "Don't worry. Please."

She smiles, her hand moving as if to reach for him. She stops, her smile wavers and fades. "I didn't want this to happen." There's a picture of Kevin on her desk. The little boy in that photo is almost unrecognizable to the child playing with a DS on the sofa without a clue what lies ahead of him. "I just – "

Henry watches him and sees Kevin scrambling through rubble, running from the machines. He thinks of Zoe ducking through the dark, gun clenched tight in her hands as she fights for her life. His hand curls into a fist which he hides against his side. It cannot happen. It will not happen. They deserve better than the future he's handing them. "I know," he says. "None of us did."

He finds a smile and prays that it's convincing. "It's better this way, Allison."

She frowns as she refuses to accept it. He watches her posture straighten, sharp-eyed focus returning. Allison with a problem is focused, intent, and he steps backward. Just once. She doesn't need this problem. Right now, he wants to leave her some hope. "No, it's – " Her eyes narrow, looking at him closely. He thinks, maybe, she can see what he's thinking. It's a miracle he's held it back this long. The memory of Miles' message burns clear in his mind. That last phone call that he didn't get to answer.

He hadn't believed it then. Who would? Cyborgs taking over world. Terminators, death camps, three billion dead...

Sarah Connor's face on the news and a shooter with a cybernetic leg left in her wake. He believes it now.

Allison steps closer, worry colouring her gaze. "What is it?" she asks, reaching for his hand. He thinks to pull away, but his feet refuse to move. Allison's fingers brush his skin and she flinches back. "You're freezing."

He smiles, looking at Kevin. "You'd do anything for him, wouldn't you?"

Her frown becomes quizzical, but she nods. "Of course." Allison's tone become rueful as she adds, "I think I've proven that too well lately."

"No," says Henry. "Don't regret it." He looks back, locking eyes with her. "Don't let them make you regret it." Someday a mother's devotion's going to save the world. God, he hopes. "Keep him safe."

Allison sighs, giving in. "All right, don't tell me," she says, "but you know you can talk to me anytime, right?"

He grins. "Just as long as I'm within town limits." Eureka is a country unto itself. He knows, if he can get out, they'll never find him. He'll be safe to look for Sarah and, maybe, finish what his brother started.

He hopes.

Pressing her lips together, she shakes her head. "_Henry._"

"I'll be fine, Allison," he says. "I just have something that needs taking care of."

"What?"

Henry shrugs. "Everything."

-

He sees her outside the garage. His garage. Waiting patiently. It's not Sarah Connor. Somehow, he thought when it happened, it would be Sarah. It's not her, not even the woman seen with her. Just a random woman fresh off a bus. At least on the surface, she is. Anyone else wouldn't know, but Henry does. Henry looks closely. _Really_ looks.

He's never seen a Terminator in the flesh before, but he still knows. A tall woman dressed simply in jeans and a white t-shirt, she's still stunningly beautiful. Unnaturally so, and maybe that's what gives her away.

Maybe it's that he's been expecting this from the moment he saw the news.

Henry takes a step. Gravel crunches faintly beneath his shoes. She turns her head and her eyes find his. Metal meets flesh and he wonders whose face she's wearing, what woman Skynet modeled her on. He's had years to research the others. Identified both the men on whom Skynet based Terminators; an Austrian anti-terrorist agent and a US Air Force General respectively.

Henry sucks in a breath and closes the distance between them. He's never met a Terminator before, but he knows this is suicide. The last time his brother saw one of these things, he died.

Maybe this is Time correcting its own mistake. Time or Skynet.

The Terminator watches him approach. Her eyes are calm, but not the inhuman calm he would expect.

Then she smiles.

The shock of the action is an emotional blow. "I -- " his voice fails him. He stares at her, open-mouthed.

She shoulders a brown leather bag, the strap pressing down into the creamy skin of her shoulder. She has a tanline. She looks so _human_. Until she speaks. "Henry Deacon," it says. It. Not she. The voice isn't monotone, but it's cool and composed. There's a precision to the way the words roll off her tongue.

He nods.

She holds out a hand. "Michael." Quirking a brow when he doesn't take it. When she lowers it, her expression is almost amused. Again, he wonders about the peculiarities of Skynet's killing machines.

Henry finds his voice in the questions. "You seem quite," he hesitates, searching for the right word, "high-functioning for -- "

"For a machine?" it finishes.

Henry nods. "From what I know of -- " he frowns. "From what I know of your kind -- "

"My model was designed to be an advanced infiltration unit, thus more attention was paid to ensuring that my programming was sufficiently evolved to allow me to pass unnoticed." She looks at him. "How am I doing?"

"Better than I'd expected."

"What did you expect?"

_That a killing machine wouldn't be quite so conversational._ Henry's smile takes on a cynical edge. "To be dead already."

"My mission was not to kill you," says the Terminator. She stops. Her attention seems to focus inward. A programming conflict? Henry puts his hands in his pockets and waits. Since he's apparently off the execution block, he's got the time.

The conflict is apparently resolved when she looks at him again. "You believe I was sent by Skynet."

"Most Terminators are." He thinks of the one that killed Miles. The one that apparently tried, and failed, to kill the Connors. "Isn't that how it works?"

"Not necessarily," says the Terminator. She considers him and he considers her. It's a strange moment. He's talked to his car before. He's talked to his plants. Hell, he's cursed at his computers more than once. This is surreal.

He tries to picture this woman, this _machine_, with a gun in her hand, walking through a wasteland and killing any humans that it encounters. His stomach rebels and he shakes his head, pushing the image away. "Why are you here?" he asks instead. "If you aren't here to kill me, then what is your mission?"

"To protect you." She steps closer. "General Connor considers it imperative that you survive."

Henry blinks. "Well, I didn't see that one coming." A faint grin tugs at his lips. "And why, praytell, is General John Connor worried about me?"

She reaches into her bag and removes a file folder, handing it to him. "You were Nathan Stark's mentor. General Connor believes you are one of the few people with sufficient influence over him."

"Sufficient influence to do what?"

"Callister Raynes." Henry's eyes snap up from the file, locking on her. Seemingly confident she has his attention, she continues, "He created him, did he not?"

"Yes, but Callister was a failure," says Henry. "He -- " _died_. He doesn't say the word. Looking a Terminator in the eye, he can't. "The experiment failed," he says unnecessarily. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"Yes, it does," says the Terminator. "Nathan Stark's research was lost, we saw to that, but it can be recovered."

"Because Nathan is still alive," says Henry, the creeping cold of realization settling into him. "He never knew why Callister worked." He looks away, his gaze settling on the horizon. The sun is setting over Eureka where hundreds of the world's most brilliant minds were ending another day. Another day and another step closer to the end of the world. "Skynet."

"Yes," she says. "It is the General's belief that Skynet interfered. They may do so again."

"You're here to kill him," says Henry. He turns back to her. "That's what this is, isn't it? You want me to help you."

"No," she says. "I do not. I require no assistance to kill. Should it become necessary, I will take action against Nathan Stark myself." Taking the folder back, she tucks it into her bag. "However, that is not my primary mission. It would be disruptive and draw greater attention to his work."

"Thereby causing someone in Eureka to pick up where he left off?"

"It is a possible outcome. Unlikely, but yes." She nods. "There is also the matter of Eureka itself. Research into artificial intelligence is conducted here on a regular basis. Successful research."

"And that's where I come in," he says. She's lying to him. Maybe not in the broadstrokes, but she is lying to him about something. Right now, John Connor is a boy, but some day he will be a General.

A general brilliant enough to subvert the programming of the very machine that will destroy the world. Henry knows that kind of intellect. He doesn't know the person behind it.

Would General John Connor send a machine back to destroy a town? Or just one person in it.

"You want me to help you with Eureka."

She nods. "Yes. I have been prepared to properly assimilate into the town, but I will require assistance. Yours."

"I'm leaving Eureka," he says. "I've been -- " he thinks of Kevin. Beverly. He thinks of them and everything that happened. "I can't help you."

She smiles again. It's as unnerving as the last, even if he's more prepared for it. "Yes, you will."

He looks at her and sees the machine looking back. Chilled to core, he nods, thinking that Oppenheimer was lucky.

When he looked at his creation, the creation couldn't look back.


End file.
